Disregard
by Angel Bells
Summary: Things are set in motion. This is the way life has been planned out. Until Annie makes one different decision, and changes the course of history.
1. Ch 1

_I don't own Being Human UK_

* * *

This wasn't right, Mitchell had been acting too strange for too long, and Annie had reached the end of her rope. She had tried to get Mitchell to talk to her and George, to lean on them the way friends do. It never ended well. Once, it had led to George and Mitchell yelling (and in George's case, crying) over the Real Hustle when the realized the time had been changed. Maybe the boys had needed that release of emotion, but that was a scene she would willingly avoid. It may have been selfish, but she wanted Mitchell to open up and talk to her. She wanted to help him. So here she was, leaving the house, trying to find Mitchell to get him to talk.

Well, the most obvious choice was the funeral parlor. She wasn't sure he'd be there, but he had been spending so much time there, trying to help the other vampires get off blood, he said. If he wasn't there, maybe someone else would be able to help her find him.

It was with only slight hesitation that she reached up and knocked on the garage door. As soon as the first knock reverberated through the door, she instantly thought of leaving, I would be so much easier to rent-a-ghost back to the house and just wait for Mitchell to come home and open up on his own. But it was, oddly, harder for her to convince herself to abandon her friend when he clearly needed help, than it was to convince herself to walk into a building likely filled with Vampires. There was something wonderful and frightening about that at the same time. Before she was able to talk herself into leaving, however, the door opened.

Ivan had been looking over paperwork and documentation that Mitchell hadn't gotten to the previous night. Mitchell had only just called to set up a meeting for the next night. He had no expectations of seeing anyone there at this time of day. The knock on the door was a welcome distraction. Upon opening it thought, he was surprised to see a ghost, 'Mitchells ghost' he realized. What could she possibly be doing here? Ghosts and Vampires had never had a very good history. Sure, it was a better one than the hatred between vampires and Lycos, but still. Why was she here? Looking for Mitchell? They lived together; she should know better where to find him. Still, she was here, might as well find out why.

"Can I help you?"

Annie was not to keen on being here as it was, and being questioned, especially when she had come to make her own inquiries. "I'm looking for Mitchell." The waver and insecurity in her voice was so embarrassing! Why couldn't she be all confident like she had been the night she and the boys had scared Owen? That had been a success.

The man smiled "Mitchell isn't here now. But he called to set up a meeting tonight. Would you like to wait here, or would you rather come back this evening?" His voice was dripping with condescension and disregard.

"Is this how you talk to all the ghosts who come here?" Annie had forgotten something that, now remembered, brought a great deal of comfort to her. She was apart of this world, all the 'monsters' that were out there, she was one of them. She may be new to this, but she still here. She didn't need to fake confidence and understanding of how this all worked, she was in it; she knew how death worked. Better, even than the undead man standing in front of her.

Ivan's smile shifted. This girl had spunk. The change in her had been instant. A small hint of condescension, a small lack of belief in her ability to cope, and she was suddenly the powerful poltergeist who had helped defeat Herrick. Interesting.

"Only the beautiful ones, dear." He stepped back to allow her in, watching with curiosity as she waltzed in, all hesitation and shyness gone. He led her back to Mitchell's 'office' where he had been working earlier. He gestured to a spares chair in the corner, and grabbed a bottle of red wine that was carefully concealed behind a stack of binders.

"If you don't mind my asking," he began, as he poured a glass, "why don't you know where Mitchell is? You live with him; surely you would know his preferred… ah… Haunts… better than I would."

The look on her face, even from the shadows where she sat, stated clearly that she thought his joke was about as funny as a whoopee cushion. "He's never home these days. And when he is, he's distracted and never seems to hear a word George and I say. But, when he does talk, he mentioned briefly that he was trying to get the other vampires to stop drinking blood. I though he might be here, doing that."

Ivan stared hard at this ghost, one who had willingly stayed behind to take care of and protect a werewolf and a vampire. He was about to speak, when she began again,

"Excuse me, but who are you? I probably should have started with that question, shouldn't I?"

Ivan could not contain his smile here. She was quite amusing. "My name is Ivan; I've known Mitchell a very long time."

She smiled here, a bright, cheerful smile that one would give to an old friend, was unexpected. "I'm Annie. Thanks for letting me wait here."

"Not a problem." The words were a natural consideration, practiced and memorized to help them blend in. Niceties were not really used amongst other vampires, but humans required them. But she wasn't human; she hadn't needed the niceties and small 'please' and 'thank yous' that came with that lifestyle.

Lifestyle.

That was the word that caught him. She and the others were playing at being human; they didn't need them, but they wanted them. To Ivan though, it felt like pandering to a child who was starting to grow up. She had slipped from her human façade into her own power and place right outside, so he was not about to bring her back to that human illusion.

"May I ask you a question?" The smile disappeared, caution and, possibly distrust, came into her eyes, but she nodded. "What do you think of all this? Of Mitchell's attempts to wean us off of blood? Vampires who don't drink blood, what do you think of that?"

The question, interestingly, didn't seem to shock her. The contemplative look in her eye almost suggested that she had thought on this before. It was a few moments before she responded.

"I think it's unusual. The first vampire I ever met was Mitchell, and he was always reassuring me in the beginning that he was different from others of his kind, that he didn't kill, that he didn't want to kill. He promised me I would never have to worry about a body turning up in his room or the police coming by to arrest him for murder. He said there would be no blood drinking, not in the house, and not anywhere. Not by him."

"I believed him. He never came home with blood on him, and it was evident that he was suffering, trying to stay clean. I respected him for that. When I found out about Lauren, and that he had… recruited… her, I was hesitant, but it was obvious that he felt bad, about the whole thing. He didn't want to give in, but it's apart of him. He can't escape this."

"But it made sense to me. It was like watching an addict trying to quit. He wanted to be better than he was. And he wanted to repent for what he had done. It was tragic and wonderful to watch. It was an inspiration to me. "

"It wasn't until he almost died, and needed to drink someone else's blood to fully recover, that I remembered, the blood isn't just like a hit where you get high and crash later, it's essential to his survival. Lately, I've thought about this one section from To Kill a Mockingbird. The two children are going to see an old woman, who they later learn is trying to get off a pain medication she has been on for years. Now, she was legitimately in pain, and had been prescribed these pills to deal with it. They were a necessity to go through life like other people. I think I'm starting to see blood like that. Yes, I understand it's killing, but it's a necessary thing that you need. "

"Mitchell wants to live without it. It's his choice, and if others want to as well, than great for them. Who am I to tell someone else how to live?"

Ivan sat for a moment, trying to take it all in. Simply put, it seemed this girl would prefer if people didn't die, but, she cared for Mitchell; she didn't want him to be in pain. She was as torn about this as he was.

Her next words were so quiet, he almost didn't hear them,

"What about you? Do you really agree with Mitchell?"

He almost didn't answer her, his loyalty to Mitchell telling him to say nothing if he couldn't say the truth. Yet, somehow, he felt sure she would not tell Mitchell, and even if she did, Mitchell probably already knew.

"I think a vampire who doesn't drink blood is a vampire who is easier to kill. Mitchell has survived, but not on his own. Others like him who choose to abstain from feeding will not have the protection of a werewolf and a poltergeist. I fear he doesn't realize how vulnerable we are. He knows that he is in a dangerous position, that the weakest point for and… addict… is right after they give up their drug. These vampires have only just begun, and Mitchell has even said that true symptoms of giving the blood up have only just begun to show themselves. We are an easy target right now."

"But I see, and have seen, how much Mitchell and others have suffered with the knowledge of what they are and what they must do to survive. Mitchell has explained to me how he gave up blood, and I understand, but…" admitting his failings to the flat mate of his leader was a little terrifying. Of course, Mitchell was not, and could never be, like Herrick. He never would be. But enough vampires in positions of power were scary, and with the history John Mitchell had, Ivan chose his next words carefully.

"… I fear Mitchell will loose sight of what is his. We, the vampires who gather here, are loyal to him, and we are his charges. But you cannot convert every vampire in the world into a vegetarian. It won't work. And If Mitchell sends us out, like disciples to change the world, than every small step he has taken, and all the progress made, will be snatched away. We will all be destroyed."

For a while, Annie and Ivan, the vampire and the ghost simply sat and stared at each other. There were many things left unsaid, but there was also quite a bit that had been laid bare. The silence was welcome and calming.

Then there was a knock on the garage door.


	2. Ch 2

_I don't own Being Human UK_

* * *

The noise startled both of them out of their thoughts and the both turned 'round to look back to the door. For Annie, her strength and power, were gone.

"Wh… who was that?" She hated the stutter. Damn it! Why was she so uncomfortable here?!

Ivan said nothing. He simply stood and made his way toward the door. He paused a moment before leaving the office, "Are you visible?" He didn't know why he bothered asking. Why should it matter? It was more than likely a vampire at the door. She would be visible to them either way. Her response was small shake of her head in the negative.

With a small nod of his own to acknowledge her, Ivan headed into the garage to the door. As he approached, he could smell the human. It shamed him, however, that he felt only a slight thirst for it. He had fed recently; at the moment, he had no need of blood. Mitchell, who had been denying himself for so long, would easily slip the thirst to the back of his mind. Any of the others, new as they were to denial, would struggle, but, to please Mitchell, they would keep this one alive. And they would hold off, and until the next human encounter, they would ignore their thirst.

His shame was replaced by irritation. Why did this human have to be here now? Ivan was trying to find out about an outsiders view. Mitchell's conviction, whether he knew it or not, had something to do with his friends. The ghost and the Lyco. He didn't want them to be ashamed of him. He didn't want them to be afraid of him. THEY were what kept him clean. That would be something worth bringing up at the next meeting; an anchor.

He reached for the door and pulled it open. There was a man standing there dressed like a service worker, in a blue jumpsuit with a toolbox in one hand.

"Excuse me sir, but we've had complaints of gas leaks, and we're checking all the building's in the area."

Gas leaks? Ivan was a vampire, if there was gas, he would have smelled it. Taking an exaggerated whiff of the air, he looked back to the man.

"Would you mind stepping out for a moment sir? I promise, this won't take long." The man didn't seem to believe there was truly a threat, otherwise his voice would have held alarm, no matter how well concealed.

Ivan began to step out when a thought struck him; Annie! She was still inside; should he get her, or leave her there? Even if there was a gas leak, it wouldn't do her any harm, but just leaving her with no explanation would be both rude, and alarming.

But going back in, just to come out with nothing, even if he brought out some papers or something, would look odd. "Not long, you say? How long is 'not long'? Because I have some things I need to finish." Ivan said.

The man smiled in what was probably supposed to be a charming and comforting way; it just annoyed Ivan. "Just ten or fifteen minutes, sir. I'll be very quick."

Ivan nodded, and finally stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Carful not to move anything on the desk in the back, though." He warned. Likely the man wouldn't even be going back there, but just in case, If he could see Annie, best not to freak him out.

"Yes sir, I'll be sure and leave everything as it is." The man ducked into the garage, and closed the door behind him. Ivan got out a cigarette and lit it.

* * *

Annie heard the door open, and the muffled voices of two people, one of them being Ivan. She wasn't too interested in what they were saying, until she heard the door close. She looked up at the office door, expecting to see Ivan coming back in. But there was no sign of him. But someone was obviously here, they were shuffling around, and it sounded like they were tinkering with something technical. She got up and headed to the door, following the sound. As she looked into the garage, she saw a man dressed as a service worker with a big set of tools.

Carefully approaching him, she tested the waters. "Ahem"

Nothing. She tried again a little louder, and still no reaction. She wasn't too surprised; she hadn't been visible for a little while now, ever since Saul and that whole mess. It was a little saddening, not being visible like this, but she was used to it. It probably wasn't important, whatever this man was doing, but as she drew nearer, she realized she recognized him; but from where?

She stood there, staring as he worked. It was while she was trying to place him in her memories that she realized exactly what was in his hands. He was handling explosives. And he was putting them under the grate in the floor. He was putting a bomb under the parlor!

In an instant, Annie was outside of the garage door next to Ivan. Ever the calm, older vampire, Ivan merely turned to stare at her with absolutely no interest at all. But the moment he laid eyes on her, her saw the panic and hysteria creeping into her face.

"Annie? What's wrong?"

_'Do not panic' _She kept repeating. Why was she frightened anyway? She was a ghost! This bomb, if it went off, would do nothing to her. But the idea of someone not only killing others, but doing it so covertly, where the intended victims were large in number, completely unaware, and were trying to do better, this was genocide! It didn't even occur to her to think this may just be a crazy man, or an international terrorist, or something like that. She recognized him, and not from a long time ago, he was in her recent memories.

But was she over analyzing it?

_'What does it matter?' _The guy was planting a bomb! In a place where people were going to be! Regardless of his reasons or his knowledge, he was doing something wrong, and she could help stop him.

She looked up into Ivan's face, panic and confusion filling his own eyes. "The man, the one in there, he's planting a bomb under the grate in the garage! He's planting a bomb!"

Those words didn't make sense. What? A bomb? Ivan's first instinct was to run in there and tear the man apart. But wait, why was he doing this? Could he possibly know who or what frequented the parlor? Was this bomb intended for vampires? But that was ridiculous! No one knew about them. And the people who were sometimes clever and imaginative enough to figure it out wouldn't be the type of people to have access to explosives.

So what to do?

_'Call Mitchell' _Yes. If for no other reason than Mitchell was his leader. He pulled his phone out as he began pulling Annie across the street, away from the parlor. It was ringing.

* * *

Mitchell was sitting on his bed, going over and over in his mind what to say. How was he gonna tell all these vampires that he was leaving? He knew what it would look like; abandonment. He helps take out their previous leader, threatens them, terrifies them, gets them all off their natural food source, breeding the idea that they are all abominations, and then leaves them to their fate. They would not be happy with that.

But he had never wanted this position in the first place! He just wanted to stop the killings, to protect people! And he had been doing it well. But didn't he deserve a break? He had been fighting himself for so long, wasn't it fair that he be allowed to turn to another for help?He had often tried to find salvation in humans, but it rarely worked. Josie had been his only real connection to humanity for the longest time.

_'Annie and George are a connection, though.'_ For so long, he had been alone, but George and Annie, two others who could understand his burning desire to feel human, who wanted so much to help, surely they would appreciate, even applaud him leaving the others. They were always scared and nervous when other vampires came up as a topic. Had he even told them that he was trying to help the others? He wasn't sure. _'Great housemate, I am.' _he thought. He couldn't even remember the last time he had properly sat down and had an actual conversation with either of them. He knew Nina was back, and that she was sprouting some nonsense about a 'cure' to being a werewolf. That was utter bollocks in his opinion. Did George agree? He couldn't remember.

"This is brilliant. Living with two others, that you consider friends, and you have no fucking idea what's going on in their lives."

But he had an excuse, not that anything should be an excuse, but he had a lot on his plate. He wanted to get these vampires off blood, he was... supplying Ivan with blood that no one knew about, and he needed to break it all off to have a chance at a relationship with Lucy.

Lucy. He wanted so much for them to work together. She was sarcastic, funny, interesting, sexy, decisive. And she made him want to be better than he was. She seemed to have been really shocked when he told her she could be his salvation. She had recovered though. She hadn't believed him, that was obvious, when he had told her he would break off from the others. It had been a rash decision, tomorrow night, but the sooner he did it, and she was assured of his commitment, the sooner the two of them could really begin to understand each other.

The blaring of his phone broke into his thoughts of Lucy, and had him scrambling for it. "Hello?" he said, without even looking at the number.

"Mitchell, someone is planting a bomb in the parlor."

Well shit, let's add another problem to his life.


End file.
